With eyes open
by bitterfloof
Summary: It was hard to tell whether the nightmares he remembered or the ones he didn't were worse. At least if he remembered, he could reassure himself that it was a dream, it was behind him, he was safe and trusted and wanted by those around him. But those he couldn't remember . . . What did he dream of - he'd never know.


**Crossposted on A03**

* * *

He doesn't sleep well. He hasn't in a very long time. Before, it was a case of being locked away (sleep never comes easy to those in chains) and now, well, it's still the case of being locked away. This time in his dreams - and it sucked.

Sometimes, however, it wasn't in his dreams. And no matter what he does or how he tries to calm himself, the sensation that his mind is racing, that he can feel the blood rushing through bis body keeps him awake at night. No matter how hard he tries, Atsushi just can't find a way to get a good night's sleep. That is to say, he sleeps, but fitfully. Waking up at random times in the night, sometimes spending a few hours staring at the ceiling like it might provide the answers. Other nights spent curled on his side, blankets clutched tightly to his chest, hoping and praying that he might be spared from the cold, unforgiving hands of insomnia.

Oh if he were so lucky.

It wasn't always insomnia that got him, it was the nightmares too. On the rare night where he would be granted sleep, he would be dragged back to waking with the deep unsettled feeling in his chest that something was terribly wrong, but his kind would not provide him the information. On those nights the dark room around him felt suffocating, as though out of the gloom something (someone) might come crawling out, ready to grab ahold and drag him away.

It was hard to tell whether the nightmares he remembered or the ones he didn't were worse. At least if he remembered, he could reassure himself that it was a dream, it was behind him, he was safe and trusted and wanted by those around him. But those he couldn't remember . . . What did he dream of - he'd never know.

* * *

The room was spinning and spinning and spinning. Or it sure felt like it was. Atsushi lay flat on his back as it felt like the entire building he was situated in was shifting in its foundations. And he just did not want to move.

Last night had been . . . fun. That was a lie but it was easier to say than mind numbing and long, mixed with moments of sleep and nightmares and lying awake looking at the ceiling. All of which culminated in a strange phenomenon - Atsushi couldn't tell whether the vertigo was a side effect of his lack of sleep or his lack of sleep was a side effect of the oncoming vertigo. Regardless the two always seemed to turn up around the same time and it fucking sucked.

"Ugh," Atsushi groaned, rolling onto his side and squeezing his eyes shut hoping that a change in position might help - all it did was shift the feeling of spinning from his entire body to just into his face. His head was spinning and it made him feel awful.

On one hand he didn't want to open his eyes to face the sunlight and the high possibility that he'd feel even worse with his eye open, but on the other hand he needed to phone (or at the very least text) somebody at the ADA to let them know he wouldn't be in. But it was such an effort. Everything felt like an effort, the roundabout in his brain was weighing down his bones, filling his body with lead and pinning him into place on his bed.

The worst part was that his phone was barely an arm's length away, well within the range that he could reach out and grab it. However, just like any other movement, the very thought of shifting to even make a grab at the phone left Atsushi feeling weak - and he didn't even do anything!

"This sucks," Atsushi thought miserably. Whilst his insomnia and nightmares were fairly common, the swishy, swirling feeling didn't come around that often. He could barely remember when the last time it happened was (but that might have been down to how rough he felt rather than it having been a good while back) and it was just . . . disgusting really. It was weird and somewhat difficult to describe how he really felt, the spinning was beginning to abate ever so slightly and, tentatively, Atsushi opened his eyes.

Big mistake.

The moment his eyes were privy to the world, everything took a sharp turn into a spinning tunnel. Tilting left. For a moment he felt as though he was rolling down a steep hill despite lying on his side on a perfectly straight surface. Shutting his eyes again, Atsushi tried to bury his head into his pillow only to cause his head to whirl and his ears start ringing. It was a high pitched whilst that went directly through his already tender head.

Could the morning get any worse?

Well yeah. As if to mock him, the phone that was just barely out of his face started to ring loudly. He wanted to ignore it, he really did. Just pretend it didn't exist because if he didn't answer it, he wouldn't have to deal with any other noise. The pain was slowly growing in the back of his head, it was only a slight thumping feeling at the base of his skull, but Atsushi knew it was a sign of much worse to come. He really needed to move, deal with the problem before it became even worse.

But that meant standing up.

Thankfully his phone had stopped ringing and the whistle in his ear had silenced, so it was just Atsushi and his swirling head left in the small apartment. Taking a few measured breaths, the teenager picked up the phone. Slowly he opened his eyes, thankfully the world didn't decided to do a complete 360 and, albeit painfully slowly, Atsushi managed to type out a barely constructed message to Dazai:

"Cannt. Ake it jnto offoce. Feel bad."

It might have been a mismatched mess, but hopefully somebody would get what Atsushi was meaning. With that small task down, the second was to try and take something to prevent the sudden headache from turning into a full blown migraine (it had happened only twice before and both times had left his bedridden and helpless, unable to move unless it was to stumble for a bathroom. It wasn't a situation Atsushi wanted to repeat). But apparently the moving about and writing out a small text message had completely sapped him of his strength - or what little he had to begin with.

No.

That wasn't good enough.

He had to get up and just act like an actual adult for a few minutes. All he had to do was take some painkillers and then go back to bed. Maybe put his phone on silent. Just block out the world until it stopped spinning (and spinning and spinning). Taking a deep breath, Atsushi slowly began to push himself into a sitting position, he stayed as still as possible for a few moments (even then he could feel the way his body involuntarily swayed where he sat) but the fact that he didn't go down straight away was a good sign.

Okay. Second. Stand up and make his way into the small kitchen.

There were painkillers in the cupboard above the sink for exactly moments where he couldn't go any further (like in a vertigo induced stupor). Standing proved way more difficult than sitting up that was for sure. His entire body shook as though he had just gone several rounds in a fight, his legs threatened to collapse under him, as weak as a newborn deer. Each step he took, pausing in between to ease the slight spin and right his tilting form, was painful and sickening to a point that made Atsushi almost change direction and head to the bathroom instead - however, he managed to settle his stomach enough to almost collapse onto the kitchen surface as his shirt nails dug into the surface.

"Why am I doing this," Atsushi thought bitterly as the world began to tilt once more, punishing him for making an effort. "Why did I move?" Why did the universe hate him so much?

Those were questions for another time, right in that moment Atsushi wanted nothing more than to take the medication and collapse back into bed and hope that once he opened his eyes again the whole world would be still and he wouldn't feel like he was stuck in a blender.

That would be nice.

With the pills downed in one mouthful of lukewarm water, Atsushi made his slow way back to bed, curling up beneath the blankets, blocking out the sun in his room and silently praying that everything would work out.

* * *

It was dark.

Darker than it had been in a while.

Atsushi felt heavy. An odd feeling of gross familiarity coming over him. Something was wrong, but he couldn't quiet day what it was. A deep rooted feeling that something in the darkness was . . . Watching him.

He was alone.

It was dark.

He couldn't remember anything. What was going on? It felt eerily familiar. What. He'd known that before (before, in the past). He knew it felt familiar - yes, familiar. Scary? No just . . . unsettling. Hm? Watched - was he being watched?

From where?

The dark.

It went on, like a cavern. Deep and foreboding - but familiar yes. Familiar. A darkness that felt . . . No. Did he have his eyes open, Atsushi couldn't tell. He couldn't feel - was he even seeing? Darkness . . . Where was he, he couldn't remember

Darkness. Watching?

What. Familiar.

Dark. Empty.

Alone.

He was alone. Alone in the dark. Useless . . . what. A waste of space . . . Where. Darkness, watching - voices. Better off . . . Better off . . . Better off dead?

Die.

Breathing, heavy. Darkness, useless. Waste of life. Rapid breaths. Empty, alone. Watching. Being watched - familiar. Alone, not an empty space. Locked up. Past. Empty. Worthless. Thoughts - past. Darkness. A deep feeling - memory? The past.

Memory.

Useless. Better off . . . Dead. Death. Die. Why wasn't he dead.

"You should die in a ditch somewhere."

* * *

"Oh, you're awake"

Atsushi didn't register the presence of Dazai. Eyes fixated on the ceiling, the feeling of whatever that dream he had been having stuck to him like a layer of dirt that didn't shift. He wasn't scared, but it left him feeling unnerved and just a little on edge.

The world wasn't spinning any longer but it didn't make Atsushi feel any better, his mind preoccupied with other thoughts. He couldn't remember the dream he'd been having, it was becoming nothing more than a dark fog at the back of his mind.

It felt a million miles away - and yet still left him feeling numb. Sitting up slowly, Atsushi looked around, unblinking, towards Dazai who was sitting at the entrance of the room looking a little confused, but seemingly very comfortable where he sat.

How long had he been there?

How long had Atsushi been asleep?

"You okay? You look a little-" Atsushi never heard the last part of Dazai's sentence as his stomach suddenly turned violently as though just now reacting to whatever was going on in his head. He pushed past the brunette, falling into the bathroom above the toilet only to retch painfully without bringing anything up. The action tore at his throat, making the teenager feel even worse than he that morning.

(Was it the afternoon, Atsushi couldn't tell).

The sudden touch of Dazai's hand against Atsushi's back had him flinch away against the wall, eyes wide and fearful, not quite throwing off the disgusting feelings if sickness and oost nightmare confusion. Fuck he felt terrible, sure earlier the world was spinning and rotating like a bad fairground ride, but now . . . being stuck inside his own head was definitely worse.

"You still with me?"

Dazai was kneeling in front of him with what Atsushi could only assume was his version of concern - head just slightly tilted, a small frown playing on his face. Atsushi wanted to assure Dazai that he was fine, that there was nothing wrong. Instead he only shook his head and proceeded to bring his knees up to his chest and bury his head in them. He was shaking, too miserable to even cry.

"How you feeling?" Dazai asked cautiously, since it was kind of a redundant question to ask somebody clearly wasn't feeling 100% but since there was no way to tell what was actually wrong, he had to find out some way - though if Dazai were to guess, it was probably something to do with the nightmare Atsushi had been having.

He hadn't meant to walk in on the teenager in the throes of a nightmare, it had just sort of happened. They were meant to meet up in the morning and since Atsushi had pulled a no show claiming he was sick, Dazai had went round to check on him (like a good senpai would) and just so happened to find Atsushi asleep and obviously uncomfortable.

"Bad," Atsushi forced out taking a few deep breaths trying to steel himself and recover from his nightmare and the general fog that was still hanging over him from the vertigo he had experienced before (something that had decided to lift since that morning). He sort of felt hungover, nauseous and shaky - it really made him want to be left alone, but Dazai was there . . . watching him. Atsushi could feel him watching, his dark eyes trained on his prone form. Even though he wasn't directly looking at Dazai himself, the sensation of him watching still unnerved Atsushi somewhat (maybe it was the left over feeling from the nightmare).

Dazai, meanwhile, was indeed watching Atsushi – but not in the same way the teenager was thinking – when he had received the text that was just barely words, he couldn't help but be just a little concerned. But soon he was way out of his comfort zone, being . . . a comforting presence definitely was not exactly his forte, it also didn't help that Atsushi flinched like he was hit when Dazai attempted to comfort him. So that happened. Where did he go from there . . .

"Do you have nightmares often?" he asked as nonchalantly as possible, hoping to try and ease Atsushi out of the curled up ball he was still living in. It didn't work, and whilst he did reply, it was only as a hidden nod which didn't really help Dazai's predicament. "You know . . . Most people in the ADA do too." It might have been a tiny line, Dazai had no idea but it was a situation where lying felt kind of right.

"Do you?" Dazai felt Atsushi shift slightly, looking down to the smaller male, Dazai could barely see a set of sunset coloured eyes looking back at him.

He did.

Nightmares were . . . well, not common but they were. Mostly of the past and warm blood on his hands that was by no means his fault. He didn't want to tell Atsushi the whole story, so instead smiled and nodded.

"Yeah, but you'd never know, now would you?" Nobody would ever know. "But I have a feeling that all this," he gestured vaguely to Atsushi's curled up form. "Wasn't caused by one nightmare."

Atsushi sighed and curled back on into himself. Whilst the vertigo that had been plaguing earlier had mostly gone, the aura of dizziness hadn't quite vanished and his sudden dash into the bathroom hadn't helped any either - he just wanted to lie down and sleep. Either of those tasks felt immense; lying down meant having to move (and moving was currently out of the question with how numb his legs felt) and sleep meant possibly fighting off more nightmares.

It was a loose/loose situation really.

"I wish I could forget," Atsushi moaned miserably. He usually wasn't one to complain, but tiredness and irritation was getting to him. He just . . . just wanted to feel better, normal for once.

"We all do," Dazai replied quietly. He could feel the air of discomfort hanging around Atsushi like a thick fog, his sour mood was almost infectious and Dazai could swear he was being pulled into it too - but he shrugged it off, he could wallow in his own self-pity privately and unknowingly to other people. It was his time to be there for Atsushi. "Do you want me to help you out of here?"

Atsushi nodded slowly.

It was a slow going process, Atsushi was basically dead weight but it wasn't much of a weight to carry around (Atsushi probably needed to eat more - but that was more Kunikida's brand of caretaking). The pair slowly made their way back into Atsushi's bedroom, along the way the younger male had closed his eyes against the dizziness that was once again building behind his eyes and just let Dazai guide him gently back into bed.

Curling up beneath the covers, Atsushi looked up to Dazai who seemed to be positioned to leave.

"Can you stay?" Atsushi asked quietly.

Dazai looked round, a small smile playing on his face.

"Sure."

Atsushi knew really that if he fell asleep, nightmares would no doubt come back. It was inevitable - but for some reason, knowing that somebody was near by made it just a bit more bearable.

* * *

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